


Earning a weasel's trust

by Majsasaurus



Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: Coming of Age, F/M, Gen, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Kamatari - Freeform, Mother-Son Relationship, Passing On Traditions, Shikadai is getting a summon, Summoning, Violence, Weasels can be pretty evil, Wind Style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21889378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Majsasaurus/pseuds/Majsasaurus
Summary: Earning a personal summon, the cruel weasel Kamatari, inheriting her own mother's summon, was once Temari's greatest pride.It was time for Shikadai to inherit that bond Karura once had started.
Relationships: Karura/Rasa (Naruto), Nara Shikadai & Temari, Nara Shikamaru/Temari
Comments: 15
Kudos: 79





	1. The will to find a weasel

**Author's Note:**

> Shikadai wields a fan like his mother, and has two surnames.

_You must always be better. There’s no other choice than to be better._

_Survival means killing. Killing means survival._

_You must become stronger. You must always be stronger than your opponent. There’s no other choice._

_You must take care of your brothers._

_Dad is dead. He died. He was murdered._

_You must walk in his footsteps._

_You must become better. Good is not enough. Perfect is enough, but only for a while._

_You must do something to become stronger._

_You must do something to become better._

_Yes._

_You must get a summon._

Temari snapped out of her spacing out as she heard a cough from the couch. She refocused on the work she had spread in front of her on the desk, all the papers and files and the flickering computer screen and the annoying blue light that it exuded.

It was unusual for her to space out like that.

She had worked for Suna’s department of international relationships with the other villages ever since she came back from her baby leave, so this damn paperwork should work like a dream. She knew all the sections she had to fill in by heart by now, and later she would have to send some emails, but for some reason she just pressed the power button of the computer and continued staring at her own reflection in the now black screen.

Luckily she had saved all her work before force shutting the computer.

“Are you getting sick?” she yelled over her shoulder to the person laying in the couch.

“No”, came the answer.

Temari rose from her chair she had been sitting in for the past three hours and found Shikadai laying in the couch in the exact same position she left him three hours ago. He laid across the sofa in a position that suggested he was actually trying to slowly break his own neck, nestled inside a blanket as his fingers pressed on different buttons on his handheld game console. It made different sounds and Temari guessed he was fighting in game.

“Why aren’t you working?” she asked.

“Our training is finished”, Shikadai said without even looking at his mother.

Temari walked up to the sofa and Shikadai had just enough time to scoot over his legs before she sat down. She glared at him long enough until he sighed and put the console down on his chest.

“You dare to lie to me that you’ve finished training after laying there like a sack of potatoes gaming for three hours”, Temari said. “Why are you ditching training?”

“I’m not ditching”, Shikadai moaned. “It’s just… it _is_ finished. Moegi called it off.”

“Why?”

Shikadai sighed again and rubbed his face.

“Chocho broke her arm.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Because it was my fault”, Shikadai muttered. What a drag, now there was no going back. Temari looked at him, clearly awaiting an explanation. “I swung my fan unnecessarily hard and she was blocking it, but I still had too much of a momentum and the metal handle hit her here.” He patted right above his wrist. “It made a really nasty sound.”

“Didn’t Inojin heal her?” Temari asked.

“Well, he tried.” Shikadai pushed himself onto a better sitting position and straightened his back for probably the first time since he nestled down in the sofa. His spine cracked in an unpleasant way. “It would’ve worked if her bones hadn’t shattered to pieces. She had to go to the hospital.”

Temari looked at Shikadai, at his clearly uncomfortable face.

“Moegi said that I shouldn’t have swung so hard”, he continued. “And of course I get it. I mean, it was training, not a life-threatening battle. But I just saw my chance, and I took it.” He fell silent, gaze fixated at a point beside Temari’s head. “I think she’s mad at me. She called me cruel.”

_The cruellest kunoichi of them all. That was her nickname, and to be honest, she enjoyed it. She enjoyed being called cruel, because she was no pretty girl. She wasn’t a good girl either. She used to be a cruel girl._

_She used to hit the fan wherever it hurt the most on the opponent, never leaving an opportunity at physically harm the other, always taking it. Sometimes she even disabled people. Once she broke the neck of someone when she smashed the metal handle below the back of their head, paralysing them from the neck and down._

_It had felt so good._

“Is Chocho mad at you?” Temari asked. Shikadai shrugged his shoulders, lifting the game up again to avoid eye contact.

“Don’t know. Didn’t ask”, Shikadai said. “But she started crying. So, I guess she is.”

“Did you already file the damage report?” Temari asked. Shikadai made an annoyed growl.

“No”, he muttered. “Moegi took Chocho to the hospital and – “

“Did you run away without checking Chocho at the hospital and filing the report?” Temari had her eyebrows raised at the revelation. “That is the first thing you do – “

“I know, mum!”

“Don’t backtalk at me.”

Shikadai growled even louder. _Damn teen and that puberty snarkiness,_ Temari thought, but she noticed soon enough that he didn’t make frustrated noises out of spite. She knew him well enough to recognize his guilt. He grew moody and irritated every time he felt guilty, and it didn’t matter how big or small the matter was, the same pattern of behaviour always repeated itself.

“Did you say sorry?”

“Yes.”

The gaming console started making noises again and music started playing, but Shikadai remained still.

“I will fill the report tomorrow”, he said. “And I’ll check on Chocho tonight.”

Temari rose from the sofa, heading back to the office, but she stopped in the doorway.

“I don’t think Chocho’s mad at you”, she said. “It was a mistake.”

“I know”, Shikadai sighed. “But dad would’ve not done it.”

_But I would’ve._

Shikamaru was working late tonight, and if Temari was right, he had probably heard about Chocho’s incident and filed the damage report himself. He indulged Shikadai that way, doing favours for him so Shikadai wouldn’t have to drag his own ass to the Hokage’s building and do it himself. She guessed Shikamaru saw this as an important part of fatherhood, making sure his son can be as comfortable as possible.

_But life isn’t fucking comfortable._

Shikadai had lived a secure childhood and was slowly transferring into adulthood, living a life where he had been able to study other subjects than the art of killing. He had studies humanities, arts and a bit of engineering besides shinobi techniques.

And he had a father who coddled him whenever he had a chance.

_It was just your generations’ childhoods that weren’t comfortable. This is a new era, a new age._

“Won’t you have to charge it soon?” Temari asked as she took out meat from the fridge, placing it on the kitchen counter. “I’ve listened to that music for four hours now.”

“Yes”, Shikadai said. “But I’ve almost cleared this level, and I’m just two Exp from levelling up!”

“What is Exp?”

“Experience points”, Shikadai told her as some random person in the game died. “Oh, oh! I got another Exp! Now I just need one more and then I’m level 59.”

“What’s the highest level?”

“70”, Shikadai said. “But! If you have completed the game 100% a new secret room opens after you’ve finished the final boss and if you clear that room, you level up to 71.”

“You’re going to do that?”

“Yeah, of course”, Shikadai said, eyes concentrating at the game as he tried to find another enemy to kill to get the final Exp. “There’s no such thing as finishing the game at only 95% or something like that. But if you ask Inojin or Boruto, you’ll get another answer. They wouldn’t bother searching for the one hundred and fifty gold stars that are hidden around in the game, so they can only finish the game at 95%. Losers.”

“Why is it important to find so many gold stars?”

“Because if you do”, Shikadai slashed a random enemy in game, “you get a magic armour before the final battle. I mean, you can win the game without the armour, but it’s lame. And you won’t get the secret room at the end without it.”

Temari got a strong sense that if Shikamaru had access to that game when he was fifteen, he wouldn’t ever, ever, ever search for that many stars only to get access to a secret room after the final battle. He would’ve sped run the whole game, only doing what’s absolutely necessary and then shut the game off after the final boss.

“What’s the lowest percent you can get and still finish?”

“60%”

Yes, Shikamaru would’ve definitely gotten 60%.

_What would I have gotten? Would I search for all one hundred and fifty gold stars, or would I just beat the boss without that help?_

_Don’t fool yourself. You wouldn’t ever have gotten a game in the first place. Killing in game doesn’t matter. Killing in real life is the only thing that matters._

_Was._

_Killing was the only thing that mattered. I don’t have to kill to survive today. Not anymore. And Shikadai will never, ever have to kill to survive his everyday._

“At what level are you now?”

“I just told you, soon 59.”

“I mean, here. Now. You”, Temari continued. That made Shikadai lower his console and he looked up at his mum.

“Me?” he echoed. “Uh… chunin level?”

“What is the max level?”

“Uh… Kage level? I don’t know”, Shikadai said. “Life isn’t like a video game.”

“Would you like to gain level in real life?”

Shikadai eyes her for a second before sighing and shutting off his gaming console.

“Well, I would have to get quite of a lot more B and A-rank missions if you think about me becoming a jonin”, Shikadai said, rubbing his neck. “Like, sorry, I know you were…” His voice faded as Shikadai realized he doesn’t know at what age his mum was promoted to jonin. “How old were you when you became jonin?”

“Seventeen.”

“Wow, that’s pretty early.”

_Early? Becoming a jonin at seventeen is late. I was promoted to chunin at the second exam after_ that _exam, and two weeks after that I was promoted to jonin. Dad’s old Kage suit was hanging in his old room and I had to take on the opportunity, our village was falling apart –_

“You still have a few years”, Temari said, returning to the kitchen to look over at the meat on the counter. It had to be sliced up, so she grabbed a sharp knife and started slicing the shoulder cut into smaller beefs.

“But you weren’t talking about becoming jonin, right?” Shikadai asked from the sofa. Temari threw a gaze over her shoulder and saw Shikadai lean over the headrest of the sofa, so he had a clear view to the kitchen.

“Come here”, Temari said and Shikadai climbed over the headrest, trailing into the kitchen. Temari pointed the knife towards herself, showing the handle to Shikadai. “What is the first thing you do when making food?”

“Uh?” Shikadai said. “Put the oven on?”

“No, it’s washing your hands”, Temari said. “Now go and wash them and return here.”

Shikadai obeyed. When he came back Temari gave him the knife.

“Cut it”, she said and Shikadai, still with a face with ‘what the heck does this mean’ written all over it, continued slicing the meat, while Temari put on the oven and prepared the rice. They prepared dinner silently together, only talking the necessities. It wasn’t unusual for Shikadai to help with dinner, as Temari had made it a point for him to learn to make food. So far, he was learning fast.

When the rice was boiling, and the meat was cooking she looked at her son.

“Discipline”, she said. “That’s the first quality in advancing. Knowing when to obey and when to follow your heart. Most of the time obeying is more rewarding. But sometimes the heart knows before the brain.”

“What are you talking about, mum?”

“Give me the knife back.” Shikadai obeyed and Temari played around with it, and without even thinking about what she was doing in front of her son, she cut her finger. A line of blood trailed down the finger and dropped on the kitchen counter.

“What are you doing?” Shikadai asked, now sounding alarmed.

_“This is how you’re supposed to do it”, Temari said. Her whole hand was covered in blood after cutting it, biting it, ripping the skin open._

_“You don’t have to bleed that much”, Kankuro said, warily. “Listen, maybe you have to – “_

_“Dad had left this for me!” Temari grabbed the contract with her better hand and thrusted it to Kankuro. “Read it! Or are you illiterate?”_

_“You are stupid for doing this”, Kankuro snarled back. “Kamatari won’t come for free, you idiot.” He lifted the contract, read it, and his face revealed that he was not prepared for what he was reading._

_“Well, what is it? Does it have the fucking address to Kamatari’s lair, then?”_

_“Kamatari was Mum’s summon, not Dad’s”, Kankuro said._

_“No.” Temari’s heart almost stopped. “No. No. It was Dad’s. Dad left it for me.”_

_“But this is her name and handprint – “_

_“It was DAD!”_

_“You can’t fucking read!”_

_Temari changed quickly strategy. She rolled the scroll into her hands, staining it with blood and looked at Kankuro with a freezing gaze._

_“Go and play with your puppets or whatever.”_

_After Kankuro had left the room, Temari sank down on the floor. She didn’t cry. The cruellest kunoichi never cried. She was going to get that summon. She had to become stronger. Someone had to take over Dad’s legacy. Kankuro was an idiot and Gaara would probably never be ready, she thought. It had to be her, and she needed to be more, and more, and more._

_After sulking for a while, Temari rose up with the creased contract in one hand and her fan in her now bandaged hand. She had a weasel to find._

Temari offered a small smile to Shikadai while she held up her finger, so he could observe it.

“You – you want me to get a summon”, Shikadai said.

“Would you like to?” Temari asked, smiling.

“If it was Kamatari, then yes.” Shikadai had seen Kamatari twice. Once in battle and once as a demonstration.

Kamatari was a wicked one-eyed weasel with a sickle in its paws, riding on whirlwinds, hurricanes and air-currents. There was only one thing stopping Kamatari, and that was the death of his opponent. He wouldn’t stop unless someone was dead.

Of course Shikadai had thought about getting a summon, but never really seriously. Sarada was sometimes talking about getting her snake summon and he knew of other summons scattered among the shinobi of Konoha, but it didn’t really occur to him that he _can_ pledge a mutual companionship with a summon.

And the only summon he would be interested in would be Kamatari.

Temari threw a glance at the rice and meat.

“Dinner is ready.”

They ate in silence, and Shikadai couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of having Kamatari as his summon.

“It might not be Kamatari”, Temari said after a while. “I have a contract with Kamatari and… your grandma had a contract with him too, but Kamatari has two siblings that might offer their contacts to you. Idzuna and Kazakama.”

So there was not only one talking, evil demon weasel, there were three of them.

“What is required off me?”

“For you to eat your dinner”, Temari said. “And later today, let’s assess if the weasels are interested in you.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I have to check up on Chocho”, Shikadai said.

“Correct answer”, Temari said, mouth in a wide smile. “Now, clean up the kitchen for me. Your annoying music made me postpone some of my emails. And don’t even think about thinking what a drag this is.”

Shikadai _did_ think what a drag it was to clean the kitchen, but instead he offered a dramatic grimace.

Shikadai walked later that night to the Akimichi household, just to check up on Chocho, to see that she could move her fingers without pain and apologise once more. He purposely left his fan at home, reason unknown, but it felt like a good idea to not flash with the culprit when he was there.

It felt really weird walking without the fan that had been his constant companion for a year and a half now. To be able to walk without being weight down by the weapon felt empty and liberating at the same time, but it mostly wrong.

He was really used to fighting with Wind Style now. He enjoyed fighting with wind, as an addition to the shadows. With wind, he could manipulate his surroundings in the shadows favour, giving him advantage in any fight.

But him having a summon, the cruel Kamatari, or possibly one of his siblings, would made him even more versatile than he ever had been.

Being _good._

That had always been his goal. At least ever since he, according to his ever-loving mother “got his head out of his ass” and started paying attention to his own prowess and skill and teammates and career and _everything_.

To _achieve_.

Make his parents proud. Make the Nara clan proud. Make the Kazekage family proud.

Life was not like a video game, sure not. But if, _if_ , he had a summon, if he had Kamatari, then he could maybe beat the game of life at 100%.

He vented his thoughts to Chocho, who proudly presented the ability to move her fingers to him, and she agreed. If he got a weasel by his side, maybe he wouldn’t hit her as hard in the future. (Her joke was not appreciated).

“You should totally try”, she encouraged. “I’ve never seen Kamatari, but he sounds malicious. You should maybe wear armour, so he can’t bite you.”

“That’s not how it works”, Shikadai said. “I have to show him that I trust him.”

“My arm is healing, and I don’t need pity”, Chocho said and wiggled her thumb in Shikadai’s face for the third time that evening. “So why are you here, and not out on a weasel hunt?”

“Huh?”

“Your weasel is not going to present itself with a contract ready, now is it?” Chocho said, stuffing her mouth full of potato chips with her good hand. “So, get your ass out there and find him. And show him to me, when you’re finished.”

Shikadai rose from the bench they were sitting on.

“So, no hard feelings?”

“None at all”, Chocho said. “But when this arm is fully healed, I’ll punch you in the guts.”

“Deal”, Shikadai said. “Thanks for your encouraging words. And sorry again. Eh, see you when I’ve got a weasel.”

He needed his fan. He needed the weapon that for every day that passed was establishing itself in his identity.

Nara Shikadai of the Sand, the shinobi with a fan, shadows and a weasel by his side.

That rang well in his ears and he smiled all the way back home.

Shikamaru had come home by the time Shikadai opened the door and kicked off his shoes.

“Mum!”

He bounced inside the living room, earning a surprised look by his father, who very certainly was thinking _How the hell can he be so bouncy and alive this time of the day_?

“Was Chocho okay?” Temari asked.

“Yeah”, Shikadai said. “And we talked about Kamatari. She thinks I should go for it.”

“Kamatari?” Shikamaru echoed. “What have you been up to while I was working?”

“Your son is going to get a summon”, Temari said.

“Really?”

“Are you doubting me, dad?” Shikadai asked curiously.

“Eh? No”, Shikamaru said. “Not at all. I mean, go for it if you feel like you need a demon weasel.”

“He is no demon”, Temari interrupted.

“Well, he is your summon”, Shikamaru snorted. “I fail to see why something not demonic would like to enter a companionship with you.”

“Is this your weird flirting again?” Temari mused, wicked glint in her eyes.

“Ugh, mum, dad, I’m still here”, Shikadai said, rolling his eyes. “Come on, mum, where do I find him?”

Temari smiled at him, at his obvious excitement and that drive that was certainly not inherited by the other dark-haired man in the room. It sure took Shikadai a while to find his drive in life and not complain or shut down completely when facing hardships and failures, which was a reoccurring issue when he was a child.

Now as a teenager he was more alive and without a doubt cheekier against his superiors and parents, but he enjoyed advancing and as a parent, that was enthusing.

Temari rose from the sofa and turned to face Shikamaru.

“You manage to sleep without using me as a pillow?”

“I’ll use your pillow instead”, Shikamaru said. “Go on, I’ll be fine.”

Temari walked to the hall and grabbed her own fan.

“Come on then, Shikadai”, she said. “We’ve got some weasels to find.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't find a single fic that a) described how Temari got her summon or b) described how Shikadai was going to inherit the summoning contract, so here I am hovering over my keyboard making up for this loss!


	2. The Kamaitachi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this with the original myth Kamatari is based on in mind. Those weasels are pretty evil, I warn you.

“Can’t you summon him here?” Shikadai asked carefully after he and Temari walked into the forest. It wasn’t the Nara forest, however, but another forest on the other side of the road, leading them away from the Nara forest.

Shikamaru would have a fit if he learned that Temari had had Kamatari in direct contact with his beloved forest. Part of Temari wanted to see his reaction, but that would be stepping over some line.

Still, her and Kamatari chopping down square kilometres of forest remained freshly in Shikamaru’s mind, and she sometimes teased (or more like threatened) her husband with summoning Kamatari to the Nara forest whenever they had some sort of disagreement, and that brought him always down to his knees.

But Temari would never do it. Not for real. She knew how much that forest meant for Shikamaru and she would not violate that trust.

“A little bit further away”, she said, and they continued making their way away from their home.

“How is it going to happen?” Shikadai asked. “Like, getting the summon. Am I just going to ask nicely?”

Temari burst out in laughter.

“There’s nothing nice about these rascals”, she said. “They are going to put you through a test. I won’t say what test, they’d know if you knew what to do. I’ll make Kamatari do a reverse summoning, so we get to their Summon Domain.”

“Where is their Summon Domain?”

“So many questions”, Temari said, but she didn’t sound the least annoyed. “You’ll see, Shikadai.”

They found a clearing in the forest they’d been walking in and Temari stopped. She briefly looked down at her hand. The scars could not be seen anymore. It had been… what, twenty-five years or so, since she had done her first attempt at summoning.

_Armoured with kunai and the contract Temari stormed away. Away from Suna, away from her stupid little brother who didn’t understand what this meant for her. She had to have something strong (something that can beat that stupid shadow boy the next time she fights him) so she can be powerful enough for bearing the cloak of a Kage. Kankuro had never had the shadow of the Kage throne cast over him, never had those expectations aimed at him. He would never understand._

_The mountain range east of Suna contained a lot of caves. Caves normally meant danger, because even if it could deliver safety for shinobi looking for shelter from a sandstorm, caves were rarely abandoned, and a sheltering shinobi was rarely alone._

_Caves were always occupied by snakes and scorpions. Lethal snakes and venomous scorpions. Temari found a big cave, towered as a goddess of death in the opening of it, fan in position. She thrusted a storm inside the cave, which ripped open the little lairs and holes the snakes and scorpions were hiding in, and while the venomous little beasts were tumbling around in her vicious wind, she threw shuriken at them._

_Every shuriken found its target and seven snakes and scorpions fell dead down on the ground. After collecting the carcasses for food Temari sat herself down in the cave._

_She mirrored herself in the blade of the kunai a second or two, before cutting herself. The blood dripped along her hand and fingers and she pressed her hand against the contract, smearing the chakra infused blood in her handprint._

_“Summoning jutsu!”_

Temari raised her hand to her mouth and bit a small wound in her thumb, only big enough for tiny drops of blood to emerge. She smeared the bloody thumb against her iron fan.

“Summoning jutsu!”

Shikadai had expected the weasel to pop up and talk to them before doing anything, but the second he saw the smoke he was drawn into a strong hurricane. In the very corner of his field of vision he saw his mum and she opened her fan, accustomed to the hurricane, knowing exactly what to do. Shikadai tried to open his own, imitating her, but the wind was so strong, and made it hard to breathe.

All of a sudden, he was swept off his feet and thrusted hard against the ground on his back. All air was pressed out of his lungs and he just had to lie down for a few seconds to gain his ability to breathe again.

“Ouch, ouch”, he exhaled and Temari kneeled beside him.

“Did you hurt the back of your head?” she asked.

“No”, Shikadai said. “But my back – ow! What happened?”

“Look around you.”

Shikadai pushed himself up on his elbows and looked around him. They weren’t anymore in the forest they had stopped in, but in a field surrounded by a thick wall of bamboo trees. The place felt ethereal with the moon sparkling above them and a very, very small wind circled around them.

Shikadai got up from the ground.

“What is this place?” he said, but there was almost no volume in his voice. The words came out in a faint whisper, and that was when his eyes found the statue in front of them. A great statue of one big weasel was placed a little bit in front of them, and on top of it, three living weasels were sitting.

He recognized Kamatari immediately, with his white fur and eyepatch over the missing eye and the sickle dangling in his front paws. Beside Kamatari, resting on the top of the statue’s head, sat a red weasel with white belly. She was missing the end of her tail, and instead of one great sickle like Kamatari, she had two smaller ones, one in each front paw. Shikadai didn’t know how he knew it, but he felt like that was Idzuna. That left the final pitch-black weasel to be Kazakama. Kazakama was missing one of his hind paws, and instead of a sickle he wielded gigantic needle in his paws.

“Welcome, Princess”, Kamatari said. “Is this your Prince?”

“This is my Prince, just like I once promised”, Temari said. “My son, Shikadai. Test him and deem him worthy of your companionship.”

“This puny little thing?” Idzuna laughed. “I’d like to see him resist my wrath.”

“He is a Prince”, Temari repeated.

“I know, Princess”, Kazakama said and slid down along the statue’s body. “But he is lacking something.”

“What am I lacking?” Shikadai asked and subconsciously gripped his fan harder.

“True cruelty”, Kazakama hissed.

_“Welcome”, Kamatari said to Temari, who still sat on the ground after hitting her tail bone extremely hard against the ground. “Who are you?”_

_“I am the Princess who will bind you to me”, Temari said, fighting against the urge to grimace at the pain in her back. “I am Karura’s daughter. You ought to know who she was, weasel. Princess Karura.”_

_“Who are you to demand answers from me?” Kamatari chuckled, amused by Temari’s hostility._

_“Do you remember Karura, weasel?” Temari asked._

_“Are you here looking for sentiment?” Kamatari asked, sliding down from the statue. He tiptoed up to Temari, smoothly as if he was made of water. Kamatari snatched the contract from Temari’s hand. “Yes, yes, I remember her like if it was yesterday we fought together in the scorching heat of hell. You are indeed Karura’s daughter, Princess Temari. It has been a time since I saw you last time.”_

_Temari fought against the urge to ask him what he meant, but tilted her nose upwards instead and offered him a sneer._

_“You will become my summon”, Temari said._

_“Do you know what we are smelling?” the red weasel, Idzuna, said, grinding her sickles together, making a raspy sound of metal being edged. “We are smelling cruelty off you.”_

_“Good”, Temari said._

_“But to be strong, one has to be weak at the same time”, the red weasel continued._

_“That doesn’t make any sense”, Temari quickly responded._

_“Everything we say makes sense”, Idzuna snorted. “We are deities, we have lived a thousand lifetimes, we’ve seen brave shinobi rise and fall, we’ve seen villages crumble in front of Tailed Beasts, we’ve seen the essence of the Beasts themselves. You, Princess Temari of the Sand, is not to question us.”_

_“But sister, she is cruel”, Kazakama said. “It works as a fast pass.”_

_“No, Kazakama. No cruelty works as a fast pass”, Kamatari said. “We must test her. Test her ability.”_

_Temari brought up her fan, and demonstrated it to the weasels, as if that would threaten them. The weasels held their weapons high._

_“Let’s begin the Dance of Weasels.”_

“Cruelty aside”, Kamatari continued, sniffing Shikadai as he came closer. “I smell laziness.”

“I’m not lazy”, Shikadai quickly defended himself and Temari had to hide a smile.

“It’s a mix”, Idzuna concluded and jumped down from the statue. “A fine mix.” She grinded her sickles against each other, standing on her hindlegs. “Let’s see what this little Prince can do.”

Shikadai opened his fan, sensing that a battle of his pride was a bout the take place. The weasels started chuckling, a mocking laugh. They were trying to agitate him on purpose. From the corner of his eye he saw his mother take a few steps back, as to enjoy watching the fight.

He was not going to lose this battle.

A hurricane shaped up from nothing, closing him in, isolating him from his mother. It didn’t matter, as he held up his fan as a shield. The wind tore on his skin, and any second the wind was going to start ripping up cuts in it. He turned his fan and commanded it to tear the hurricane.

And just as he thought he saw his chance to counterattack, Kamatari rushed towards him. Shikadai took a step back, thinking that Kamatari only was trying to scare him, when Kamatari didn’t stop and flipped his sickle.

The sickle opened a long , clean cut right along Shikadai’s chest, and the pain was too sudden. He gasped out of shock and the air-current that followed pushed him off his stance again. He fell down on his back, and this time it was way harder to breathe than the first time. The tornado around him was trying to suck all air out of him.

Fear gripped him immediately when he saw how his chest was coloured red and he tried to look where he remembered seeing Temari stand, but he saw nothing but dancing stars and wind. His chest stung and tore him whenever he took a breath and the blood started dripping down his sides.

When he looked up again Idzuna was standing on his chest. She walked straight in the wound Kamatari had sliced up and it stung even worse. Shikadai lifted his arm to thwack her away, and that was when she exposed her sickles.

“Don’t you dare”, she said and dug her sickles down right in the armpit of his raised arm.

He screamed and fright-flight reaction told him to _get the hell away from this fight,_ but he couldn’t bring himself up. Idzuna brought her sickles along his side, over his ribs and over his side abs, tearing his clothes to shreds and it hurt so badly Shikadai saw white.

At some point he started being scared for his life, for real. If this demon weasel didn’t stop her cutting, he would probably die.

_Temari refused to scream, but she couldn’t hold up much longer. The red weasel was turning her skin to shreds, slicing her up like preparing her for fire and flames, and the moment Idzuna moved downwards and dug the sickle into her thigh she yelped._

_Her mind was on fire and she tried to roll over, to get a better grip around her fan that Kamatari had snatched from her hands with a hard thrust, but a hard wind knocked her back to the vulnerable position._

_“I refuse to die!” she howled into the wind. “Cut me open, do whatever you want, but I won’t die!”_

_Idzuna looked up at her for the first time since she started her cutting and she showed what could be interpret as a smile to Temari. Then, maintaining eye contact, Idzuna continued to cut open Temari’s calves, but no blood came out._

_No blood at all._

_That was when Temari understood the mystery of these demons._

A black splotch covered the centre of Shikadai’s vision, and he somehow accepted that this is what death feels like. He was losing his vision and his mind felt oddly thick. The pain stopped for a moment and he felt the little weasel walking across his legs, how her tiny paws tickled him as the tail caressed his skin.

He laid there, wishing for all of this agony to be over when Idzuna knocked on his shin. He managed to gather enough energy to lift his head to look at her, shifting it to the right so he could see her out of the corner of his eye, where the dark splotch didn’t cover his vision. Idzuna, almost mockingly, demonstrated her sickles and dug them into the sides of his calf.

No blood came out.

It still hurt, but the pain was different and there was no trail of blood.

 _Am I hallucinating?_ Shikadai thought to himself. _I must be hallucinating; this is what dying does to you._

Then Idzuna stepped off his legs and walked along the ground up to his face. She pressed her tiny paws against his cheek, making him look up against his feet again.

Kazakama, the final weasel, stood like an ominous shadow by his feet and Shikadai accepted that he was not going to be able to rise after this. His side was absolutely wrecked by Idzuna’s sickles, and his chest by Kamatari’s, and because he believed he was hallucinating, he believed that his calf was punctured and covered in blood.

Kazakama walked up to Shikadai’s calf and threaded the empty wound in the sides with his needle, closing the wound and stitching the skin together.

He moved, fast as lightning up to his side and closed the slash wounds in his side. Shikadai even imagined he turned invisible during the process, which he eventually did, but Shikadai didn’t know what was his imagination and what was real.

Before he even had time to process what actually had happened, Kazakama had stitched up all wounds the weasels had caused Shikadai. The wind around them stopped howling and Kazakama left Shikadai and retreated to sit on the statue together with his siblings.

“Get up.” That voice belonged to Mum, Shikadai recognised and he twisted his head so he could look at her.

“Mum, it hurts really bad”, he got out, cringing at how childish and weak he sounded, turning to his freaking mum for support when he should be anything but dependent on her.

“Get up, honey”, Temari said and nudged him on his shoulder. “The weasels have a message for you.”

Shikadai forced himself to sit up, to maintain eye contact with the three weasels that just attempted to murder him.

_“You passed the test, Princess Temari”, Kamatari said._

_“What the fuck was that?” Temari hissed. “You – you brought me down, cut me open and then stitched me back together? What the hell?”_

_“We are the Kamaitachi”, Idzuna said. “We are the Demon Weasels, and we just made you go through our most well-known prank.”_

_“Prank?” Temari spat. “That was murder attempt!”_

_“But did you die?” Kazakama sneered and the other two laughed._

_“Who are you to decide what is prank and what is murder attempt?” Kamatari asked. “Besides… who are you to judge us when you yourself sought us out?”_

_“Bend to my will!” Temari spat out._

_“You sure are different than Karura, my Princess. Fear not, you passed the test”, Kamatari said. “You let us cut you open. You let us sew you whole again. You let us run our weapons through you. You pledged yourself through blood to us and we just confirmed to which levels you are ready to reach. You are a worthy companion, Princess Temari.”_

_Temari exhaled out of relief that they accepted her, but also out of exhaustion. Her hands were shaking, and her knees felt weak when she rose on her feet, straightening her back to seem as threatening as possible. Her shaking knees screwed up the bravado._

_She let the fan fall down to the ground with a thump and she walked up to the statue. Kamatari held up the contract, in which her bloody handprint had turned brown already._

_“I am ready to enter a companionship with you, Princess Temari”, Kamatari said._

_“Thank you”, Temari exhaled._

_“Then there’s one final thing to do.”_  
  


Shikadai slowly got up on his legs and walked up to the statue, to the three weasels purring.

“Did I make it?” Shikadai asked.

“You let us cut you open, and you let us heal your wounds”, Idzuna said, putting her sickles in the scabbards. “You are welcomed to enter a companionship with one of us.”

Shikadai lifted his arm, as a gesture to the weasels to climb on him. No one moved, however.

“Kamatari, I wish to enter a companionship with you”, Shikadai said. Kamatari bowed lightly to him.

“Third generation”, he said. “I was your grandmother Karura’s personal summon. I am your mother’s personal summon. I am honoured you wish me as your companion as well. However, I suggest you choose my sister instead as a primary summon. You may still call on me, if you wish, but in times when both your mother and you fight at the same time, you can use us both.”

Shikadai looked over to Idzuna, the red weasel with white belly and two smaller sickles. She smiled at him.

“I accept your suggestion”, Shikadai said. He didn’t think of it before, but now he realized that him having a different personal summon from his mother would make him more independent from her. To prove to everyone that he didn’t just follow his parents’ footstep, that he wasn’t some washy copy of them. Yes, he looked like his father, yes, he fought like a mix of them both, but he was no copy of either of them. He was Nara Shikadai of the Sand and he had a personal summon, the Demon Weasel Idzuna.

Idzuna climbed on his hand.

“There’s one final thing to do”, she said and offered one of her sickles to him. Kamatari handed over the contract, and Shikadai, now with Idzuna sitting on his shoulder, used her sickle to cut himself in his palm and smear a bloody handprint on the contract.

“And now, bind yourself in blood to me”, Idzuna said, coming down from his shoulder. She sat in front of him, blinking curiously. Shikadai reached to her and stroked his bloody hand across her head and back, staining her with his blood.

Idzuna lifted her front paw and ripped up a wound in her own chest and pressed a bloody paw against the tip of Shikadai’s nose. They were now bound in blood.

“Thank you”, Idzuna said. “I am now your personal summon, Shikadai.”

“Thank you”, Shikadai said, before all three weasels turned invisible and disappeared in a whirlwind. When they were all gone Shikadai let out a tiny shriek of frustration. “You knew what I was going to go through, and you still thought it was a good idea?” he shouted at his mum. “I thought I was going to die!”

“You wanted this yourself”, Temari said. “If you’re not ready to pay the price, then why bother getting a summon at all?”

“Did you also go through that?” Shikadai asked.

“Yes”, Temari said. “I packed you some spare clothes.” She tossed a summoning scroll to Shikadai, that contained other clothes, as the one he was currently wearing was hanging in shreds around his body.

“You knew this”, he grumbled as he put on a new shirt.

“Of course”, Temari said. “And that was the final complain from you. I helped you advance and become hell of a more equipped in upcoming fight, and I won’t allow you whine because you got some scratches. Idzuna is a true fighter, and any opponent you send her to will lose. Most likely die. These weasels aren’t known for holding back.”

Shikadai nodded, remembering when he saw Kamatari in action last time. He shuddered at the mere thought.

“But mum…” he began.

“Yes?”

“You told dad that they weren’t demons”, Shikadai continued. “But they are. They are demons. Why don’t you want dad to know that?”

Temari giggled into the back of her hand.

“Your dad doesn’t have to know everything”, she said, and winked her eye at Shikadai. “That stuck up fool already thinks he’s a know-all, it’s funny to keep a little secret from him.”

“He is so going to prank you when he figures it out”, Shikadai said. “How many times is he going to see Kamatari and not get it?”

Temari laughed at the idea of Shikamaru time after time see Kamatari and the way he fought, and not get that he had all these years been fooled by Temari, still believing that they are something that is not demonic.

“By the time he sees Idzuna I think he might question himself”, she said. “Use her and Kamatari well. They are not known for holding back when attacking. You have now a powerful demon at your disposal and be careful to not abuse that power.”

Shikadai nodded. He did not at all doubt that.

“Let’s get back to Konoha”, Temari said. “But before we’re going home, let me treat you something. I know a place.”

In a flash of wind and through the power of a tornado the by now invisible demon weasels brought them back to land known to man. A powerful feeling surged in Shikadai’s chest.

He had a demon summon now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might as well brand myself as that writer who tend to put Shikadai through pain (glares at my other fics smh) but, hey, he made it out alive! 
> 
> The final chapter will be published after all the holiday celebrations. Merry Christmas 2019!


	3. Three Generations

**Karura**

The baby in her arms let out a soft squeal and closed, tiny fists curled up to the tiny face. Karura smiled at Temari and adjusted the blanket around her, so the sand wouldn’t be all over her body when they get back inside.

“Do you want to eat, little one?” she asked and after getting another soft squeal, Karura made herself ready to breastfeed. Temari ate herself full and just as Karura moved her over in an upright position to gently pat at her back someone appeared on the balcony.

“She’s beautiful”, Rasa said and brought up a finger to caress his firstborn on the cheek.

“I know”, Karura said and let her husband stoke his hand over the fluffy blonde hair on Temari’s head. “She’s going to be a strong one, I feel it.”

“Hm”, Rasa said, still not letting Temari go of his gaze. “Listen, Karura, Shukaku’s jinchuuriki is slowly dying. Some kind of disease and I – “

“You will not make Temari his jinchuuriki!” Karura snarled and snatched Temari from Rasa’s hand. “I forbid it! You won’t make our child a shell for a demon, over my dead body.”

“We need someone strong”, Rasa continued.

“No”, Karura replied. “Temari is strong, but… please, Rasa, if you love her, if you love me, don’t make her a jinchuuriki.”

Rasa clenched his jaw and looked away from his wife and child, looked over the desert, beyond the walls of the Village Hidden in the Sand.

“We need someone”, he said, but his stern face turned into something similar to remorse and he sighed deeply. “I’m sorry, Karura. Of course I won’t make our baby girl into a monster. I don’t know what I was thinking – “

“Don’t ever suggest something like that ever again”, Karura said. “If the situation is turning into an emergency, seal Shukaku in a teakettle. That ought to keep him quiet until we find someone better.”

Rasa nodded once and without saying a word turned around and left Karura alone on the balcony. She hugged Temari really tightly.

“I won’t ever let anyone hurt you, my baby”, she whispered to the child. “I’ll look after you as long as l live. I love you so, so much.”

A wind blew softly around them and Karura looked over her shoulder where her fan was leaning against the outer wall. It would take a while before she could whirl around with that companion of hers. She put Temari down in the basket and drew the multiple shawls she had draped around her body into her hands. After a bit of fiddling she had designed a baby carrier and Karura draped Temari inside the shawls, securing her tight against her own chest.

“Just like that”, Karura said. “Now I can move more freely. Not that I don’t like carrying you in my arms, little one, but now I can use my hands.”

She took her fan and bit herself in her index finger, painting a thin line of blood on the white iron of her fan.

“Summoning jutsu”, she said, voice calm but steady. A cloud of smoke appeared and from it; Kamatari. He slashed his sickle in the air once before letting it slide into the scabbard.

“Princess Karura”, he said. “What can I do for you?”

“Look”, Karura said and wiggled Temari out of the shawls. “This is the new princess.”

Kamatari rose on his hind paws, snuffing on Temari’s head.

“She has Wind Chakra”, Kamatari stated and pulled back from the baby. Karura stared at Kamatari in disbelief, before looking down at Temari.

“She’s only five weeks old”, Karura began. “How can you be so sure?”

Kamatari snorted and threw a death glare at his companion.

“I am a god of Wind, I know my Wind Chakra”, he said. “She’s going to master the Wind Style when she comes of age.”

Karura held Temari closed to her chest, looking down at the green eyes when Temari tried to focus at her mother’s face.

“Would you be interested in becoming her summon, when she’s old enough?” Karura asked Kamatari. “When she masters the Wind Style?”

“I would, Princess”, Kamatari said. “If she passes our prank, I will protect the ones she loves.”

“I know she will pass”, Karura said and offered a smile to the weasel. “Thank you, Kamatari.”

The haunting roar of a jinchuuriki in an inner fight with its Tailed Beast was something Karura had learned to recognise ever since the jinchuuriki of Shukaku fell ill to that unknown disease. Shukaku would try to break out every once in a while, and it became acutely clear that the jinchuuriki would not cope with the Tailed Beast for long.

Rasa was out there, down in the village with the other generals to fight the jinchuuriki going out of control, while Karura remained up in their house with her two children.

Temari, far too accustomed to hustle and alarm at times for a three-year-old, continued to play with her toy fan, twirling it around in the air while making noises to imitate a wind. The toy fan was made of paper and wood, and when Temari grows older she would get an all-wood fan, then a wood-iron fan, and finally a fan made completely out of iron. She had heard the roars of Shukaku before, and now she didn’t even care.

Karura held Kankuro close to her chest. At five months old he was becoming heavier, but not even the days of hearing that howling made him as used to monstrous roars as his sister and he whimpered slightly against her chest.

“Temari, little one, get away from the window – “ Karura began and in that same moment the window shattered, and sand welled into the living room. Karura knew immediately that it was Shukaku’s sand and she snatched Temari by force away from the sand.

“My fan!”

The paper fan got crushed by the sand and Temari made a desperate cry for it, but her cries were the second after that focused on the monster climbing inside the house from the destroyed window.

The man, or rather a monster, with a great tanuki tail grown from his spine and half the body of the monster tanuki, jumped down onto the floor.

“Hey, Karura”, he said. “Sorry for your children. But I need Rasa to know how much I hate him. This monster is killing me, killing me!”

“Temari, get back!” Karura yanked Temari to somewhere behind her back, ripped a huge piece of skin from her hand and smeared the blood across Kankuro’s back. He was still firmly attached to her chest in shawls, and he was the closest thing she had. Her fan was leaning against the wall in the hall, one floor down from where they were. There was simply no time. “Summoning jutsu!”

Kankuro started crying but Karura didn’t even hear the piercing cry, she was so concentrated at the three weasels appearing in front of them.

“Kamatari! Idzuna! Kazakama! Immobilize him!” she commanded, and the three wicked demon weasels obeyed her command and in a flurry of wind and hate they made their way to the jinchuuriki about to lose control over his beast.

Their teamwork worked flawless and Karura forgot to cover Temari’s eyes when the weasels slashed and cut up the jinchuuriki, wounding Shukaku to the extent of him crawling back into a weak slumber in his vessel.

The jinchuuriki laid barely alive, in a bleeding mess in their living room at the same time as Rasa came rushing, stumbling over the threshold in a panicky dash into the living room.

“Are you alright?” he yelled as he came inside. Just a quick gaze over the mess on the floor and the three weasels cleaning their weapons told him that Karura had taken care of everything. Kankuro was still crying, but Temari came toddling towards him like she hadn’t witnessed bloodshed.

“Daddy”, she said and held her tiny arms up. “Up.”

For a second Rasa thought about ignoring her but gave in the following second and scooped her up.

“You okay, little one?” he asked.

“The weasels came”, Temari explained. “They took down the bad guy.”

“He’s still alive”, Karura filled in. “Shukaku is back inside his body.”

“He broke my fan”, Temari continued in a very serious voice. “I became sad because he took my fan.”

“I’ll get you a new one”, Rasa said. “What the hell happened here, Karura? Are you okay? Is Kankuro okay?”

“We’re all fine”, Karura said and turned to her summons. “Thank you so much, Kamatari, Idzuna, Kazakama. I owe you my life.”

“We were merely protecting the ones you love”, Kamatari said and shrugged. “Be well, Princess.”

The weasels disappeared.

“We can’t have it like this!” Rasa growled as he looked down at the body. “This jinchuuriki is not fit anymore, and Shukaku can break free any day now. We must find a new vessel.”

“I can help you find one”, Temari said, nestled in Rasa’s arms.

“No, Temari, you can’t help daddy with this”, Karura interjected. “The teakettle! Rasa, there’s still the teakettle!”

“A teakettle can’t work as a weapon”, Rasa snarled. “We need a child, preferably a baby.”

“I am a child”, Temari said, totally sweetly and with a voice filled with innocence because she didn’t know what Rasa meant. “When you help me get a new fan, I help you, too, daddy.”

“Rasa, no”, Karura said, eyeing Temari who was listening eagerly. Rasa glared at Karura and his gaze fell on her belly, at the baby bump barely showing. “Rasa, I beg you.”

“I’ll talk to Chiyo”, Rasa said. “We can’t have it like this. We have two beautiful children, isn’t that enough, Karura? We can still get another one after, if we’d like to have a third child after all.”

“Rasa, it’s our baby!” Karura started crying.

“This is my child”, Rasa said and clutched Temari harder.

“Yes, daddy”, she said proudly. “And Kank – Kankuro.” She was still struggling saying his name. Temari didn’t know yet of her youngest sibling, still a foetus nestled in the safety of his mother’s belly.

“And Kankuro”, Rasa concluded. “I have two children.” He let Temari get down on the floor. “I’ll send someone to fetch this man. You should probably get downstairs.” He made his way to the door, but before he left, he turned halfway around, wrinkling his nose. “It smells like weasel in here.”

Then he left.

Karura cried, chest and back heaving from ugly sobs.

“Mummy, don’t cry”, Temari said. “Your fan is still okay. And the weasels came. Mummy, can I get a weasel, too?”

Karura looked up, hugging Kankuro in her embrace, with tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Oh, yes, little one”, she said and forced a smile. “You will get a weasel one day.”

Karura didn’t, however, get to teach her daughter the arts of Wind Style. Four months later she died as a result of a bloody premature childbirth and all the complications that followed, by the side of Sunagakure’s new jinchuuriki, her youngest child.

She never got to know how Temari cried night after night asking why mummy hadn’t come home and why she’s never coming back.

She never got to know how Kankuro developed reoccurring colic, ear infections and rashes after her death because he wasn’t equipped with words to tell the world that his safety had been taken away and that was his way of showing it and how Temari in a few years forgot almost all her memories of her and how Gaara spent his childhood in isolation and hate.

She never got to know how Rasa stored her fan under his bed, taking it out each night to look at before stuffing it away again. When Temari was seven and had outgrown the wood-iron fan he gave her old fan to Temari, after having painted over her signature on the metal handle. Baki was the one person to tell Temari who had owned that fan before her.

And she never got to know that her grandson learned the sacred art of earning the demon weasels’ trust.

**Temari**

Temari looked at the battle that was playing before her, how a girl with punch red coloured hair and… are those horns? Yes, they were horns.

She was looking at a girl with punch red coloured hair and horns sticking out of her head drain that little shadow boy’s chakra. Part of her felt incredibly satisfied at Shikamaru’s weak stance against that bitch, part of her felt sad for him.

Temari opened her fan, determined to show Shikamaru what he was very lucky to not experience in their chunin fight and thrusted air with millimetre precision, so only that weird chick was blown away.

Shikamaru wasn’t exactly friendly when she approached, but Temari’s walls were also held high up. He had some snarky evaluation of his opponent and had the balls to suggest that she should withdraw together with him.

He suggested that the cruellest kunoichi, the Kazekage-to-be and Kamatari’s companion would retreat. She couldn’t almost hold her mocking laugh inside.

“You have no idea”, Temari began and bit her thumb, “what kind of powers I have.”

Come on, Kamatari! Finish her!

Kamatari came at Temari’s command. Her chakra level was just right, and she smirked all the way as Kamatari rushed through the air, until he turned invisible to attack. She could feel Shikamaru’s shocked stare at the back of her hair and that was before the forest was brutally destroyed by Kamatari’s wrath.

He cut Tayuya’s body in half, separating the lower body from the upper one.

Temari felt like that itself was a good warning sign for Shikamaru, so he wouldn’t even think about bringing up how he was able to corner her in the chunin exam.

When she turned around, he looked so lost and shocked and tiny and almost scared that she couldn’t but offer a smile for him.

He was sweet when looking so dazed.

“Pretty good, huh?” she asked and smiled at him.

After a few seconds (maybe that chick inflicted brain damage to him, or something, when he’s unusually slow?) he just repeated her words.

“Pretty…”

Temari raised her eyebrow at him and not so gently punched him in his bicep.

“Come on, Shadows”, she said. “Your friends are probably alright. Kankuro and Gaara came to help, too.”

He didn’t say anything to that, only fidgeted with his broken finger.

“And stop doing that, you’re just going to make it more of a pain for the medic if you fuck it up more”, Temari said. Shikamaru’s gaze met hers and he grumbled something as he shrugged his shoulders.

Temari didn’t know why, but he looked kind of cute.

Years down the line, after not becoming the Kazekage like she always envisioned, after a war that turned her life around and after realizing she had fallen head over heels in love with that dumb shadow boy she once saw as the most annoying creature in the world (he was still annoying, but even more so cute) she found herself cradling a little baby herself. Her and Shikamaru’s little child.

“Shikadai”, Temari said to him, after she readjusted her clothing after breastfeeding. She brought a hand along Shikadai’s black, fluffy hair. “My little baby boy.”

She was alone with him, as Shikamaru had to jump in on a mission. It wasn’t a dangerous mission at all and Temari didn’t feel worried about him at all. She just focused on the little life she had in her arms and felt so, so happy.

She sniffed his head, smelled his scent, before leaning back to take in the sunlight. That was when she, in her own thoughts, pressed her palm right against a knife she had left on the porch after cutting apples to snack on. She lifted her hand fast, but the knife had already punctured a small cut in her finger.

For some weird reason she got the very same idea her own mother, Karura, had gotten when Temari herself was a small baby and summoned Kamatari, just to let him see the new little Prince.

“Princess”, he greeted her. “You called me.”

“I want you to see what I made”, Temari said and showed Shikadai’s head to him. “It’s my baby.”

“A Princess?”

“Prince.”

“Interesting”, Kamatari said and snuffed on Shikadai’s head. “He was Wind Chakra, just like you.” Temari sent him a surprised look. “Yes, I sensed it, Princess.”

“Any other chakra? What about his release?” Temari asked, knowing that Shikamaru would probably be heartbroken if his son was unable to perform the Shadow jutsus.

“Yin Release”, Kamatari answered and Temari looked down at Shikadai. Good. That meant shadows. “And Princess?”

“Yes?”

“If you wish one of us to become his personal summon, he may go through our prank when he comes of age”, Kamatari said.

“I will consider it”, Temari said. “Thank you.” She fell silent for a second and stopped Kamatari just before he made himself ready to leave. “Kamatari. How is it possible for me to create something this beautiful if I’m so cruel?”

Kamatari tilted his head, looking curiously at her.

“Princess, it is true that you are cruel”, Kamatari said. “But it has never been the only attribute defining you. Plus, that man has made you softer.”

Temari smiled, looking down at Shikadai.

“Yes, he has”, she said, showing the smile to Kamatari. “This boy will be your companion, when the time comes for him to be it.”

“I await that moment”, Kamatari said and this time, he left.

**Shikadai**

Temari’s idea of treating Shikadai in the middle of the night was a 24/7 open little café, or whatever this little place thought it was. She bought them both coffee and they sat by the window, looking over a river and the moonlight that reflected in its smooth surface.

“The scars will disappear before you wake up after sleeping”, Temari said, referring to the scars from Idzuna and Kamatari’s sickles on his side and chest. “Then this all will be like it never happened. Like a dream.”

“They sure are weird, those weasels”, Shikadai said.

“But they can be gentle”, Temari said. “In very rare cases. Like when you present your new-born to them.”

Shikadai almost choked on the gulp of coffee he was taking.

“Huh?”

“I showed you to Kamatari when you were just a little baby”, Temari admitted. “He told me you had Wind Chakra, and he promised they would accept you when you passed their prank.”

“He knew of me?” Shikadai asked. “You let that demon look at me when I was tiny and defenceless?”

“Okay, I don’t know who gave you those drama queen genes”, Temari said, “but you were never in danger. He just admired you and promised that one of them would take you as a companion.”

“Hm”, Shikadai said and took another swallow of his coffee. “Interesting.” He looked out of the window; coffee cup close to his face as if to warm it. “There’s one thing I don’t understand, though. How did dad survive?”

Temari stared at Shikadai.

“What do you mean?”

“When you used Kamatari against him”, Shikadai elaborated. “I didn’t even know they allowed summons in the chunin exams.” When Temari still didn’t nothing but look confusingly at him he shrugged his shoulders. “Come on, I know you two battled against each other, and I know you won, so you probably used Kamatari against him.”

“You don’t think I could win without Kamatari?” This was interesting. Temari leaned back in her chair, sipping loudly out of her cup.

“Well, I don’t know, maybe, probably”, Shikadai said. “But did Kamatari know that the chunin fight was all a game? Like… that he doesn’t have to kill the opponent?”

“I never used Kamatari against Shikamaru”, Temari finally admitted. “Your dad trapped me in his shadows during our chunin fight and gave up before he lost his chakra so I could beat him up for it. I won because he gave up.”

Shikadai stared at Temari, having all those puzzle pieces he thought he had in place getting all disintegrated in his mind.

“But… I know you’ve used Kamatari against him”, Shikadai said. “I’ve overheard you talking about it. When was that?”

“Sweetie, I’ve never used Kamatari against Shikamaru”, Temari repeated. “I’ve used him to save your dad. Back when we were young, before the war, before I even liked him.”

“Why did you save him?”

Temari focused on her coffee again. Talking about Sasuke’s betrayal and how a team of four genins and one inexperienced chunin almost sacrificed their lives for him and how the Kazekage children had to come and save their Konohan butts was something everyone involved had agreed to not do in front of their children.

Temari was unsure though for how long period of time this ban was supposed to cover. Shikadai was fifteen already. How long should he live in some sort of blind fantasy? Shikadai was anything but stupid and he had already picked up details from those censured times from overhearing or, eavesdropping and pieced together that information into false stories.

He didn’t even know what Orochimaru had done and it had taken Temari hell of a long time to not look at Mitsuki with disgust in her eyes, because, _gods,_ she still resented Orochimaru so much for murdering her father. No, Rasa was never a good father, but she still hated Orochimaru for betraying them.

“He fought against a mutant and was losing”, Temari said. “I saved him with Kamatari and killed the mutant. That little sappy fool started to like me after that.”

Shikadai snorted.

“That sounds like a fairytale”, he said.

“That was what happened”, Temari said, smiling at her son, the ultimate result of her saving Shikamaru. “Wait here.” She rose and walked up to the counter and soon enough came back with to shot glasses.

“Is that - ?” Shikadai started at the sensation of the strong alcoholic smell.

“Sake, yes”, Temari said.

“Dad will be so mad at you”, Shikadai said, but he eagerly weighted the shot glass in his hand, smelling the edge of it.

“Like I said, it’s fun to keep secrets from him”, Temari said, smiling, while she raised her glass. “To your new technique.”

They emptied the shots, Temari with a face made of steel and Shikadai grimacing and wincing and with the outdrawn “uuuuggghhh” after he finished the shot.

“How on earth does one learn to _like_ this stuff?” he muttered after his facial drama show was over.

“You’re not supposed to like it”, Temari said. “How are you feeling?”

“My throat is burning”, Shikadai said. “Otherwise, my side still stings but I guess it’s all gone tomorrow.”

_Yes, it will be._

It was 4 o’clock when they came back home. The sun could almost be seen rising above the horizon, but only almost.

Shikadai was this close to falling asleep while brushing his teeth and fell asleep midsentence in his bed. Temari just smiled to him and let him be.

Shikamaru had slept on her side. Or, maybe he had fallen asleep on his own side but in his sleep rolled over to her, or, he had just gone to sleep on her side to prove some childish point. Temari smiled at him too.

If there was something Temari was skilled at, it was shifting her sleep cycles. She could turn the day and night over without even blinking, and her body accustomed to it easily. There was just this itching feeling she couldn’t get over. Something crawled inside her body and she didn’t want to go to sleep, even if she by all sense would need to.

She walked instead outside again and turned her face south. She knew that she was currently facing Suna directly, looking straight toward her childhood home.

A place where Wind was the most destructive force, turning mountains to rubble and moving the sand dunes by miles.

In Konoha, wind was too destructive a force. Forests were taken care off, and the animals living in them revered. You had to look everywhere and wonder if you possibly would harm the forest (which Temari always did when using her Wind Style) and it drove her mad.

You don’t have to be afraid of possibly destroy the nature around you in Wind Country, not in the same way as in Fire Country. Temari had though accepted this difference a long time ago, but it still felt… wrong.

She sat down on the porch, looking at the beginning sunrise she knew was already present in Suna. Temari leaned back and looked up at the sky.

“You know what, mum”, she said into the void, to the stars, to the heaven she knew didn’t exist. “Shikadai did it. He went through the weasel prank and made a contract with Idzuna. I am so, so proud of him.” She took in the silence, felt the soft, warm wind caress her face. Southern wind. Sunese wind. Wind from home. Mum’s wind. “And I know you would be proud of him too. He may be raised here in Konoha, but the desert is strong in him.” She gripped the welt of her kimono, hard, as if mere force could suppress what she was feeling inside. “I miss you, mum. I know you’d love Shikadai.”

Temari made her way inside again, going to sleep beside her dumb, cute Konohan soulmate, who once shivered in the presence of Kamatari.

It was only when they woke up the next day, Shikamaru after a full ten hours sleep, Shikadai after a very, very grumpy four hours sleep and Temari after three hours, that they noticed how their porch was filled with sand.

Soft, soft sand that Temari immediately recognise to be Sunese sand. It was strikingly similar to Gaara’s sand.

“Well, you can take Temari out of the desert, but never the desert out of Temari”, Shikamaru shrugged and accepted the sand on the porch because he wasn’t in hell going to sweep that away.

Temari didn’t sweep it away either. And neither did Shikadai (and Temari bet that the thought didn’t even pass in his mind).

“Thank you, mum”, she just said instead to the soft, warm wind that reminded her of some sort of safety that was taken away from her way too early.

“Show me the weasel!” Chocho was bouncing up and down at the sight of her teammate.

“You want to lose your hand?” Shikadai asked curiously. “I won’t show her to you. She’d cut you down like twigs.”

“Her?” Inojin looked up from the scrolls he was neatly trying to fold so they’d be ready to haul up in battle. “Isn’t Kamatari a boy?”

“Nah, I’ve got his sister, Idzuna”, Shikadai said. His side didn’t sting anymore, and no matter how he tried to see, there were no scars to be seen. His mum had been right. It all felt like a really weird fever dream. “And guys, I got close to zero sleep last night, so can we take it a little bit more chill today?”

Chocho and Inojin eyed each other, before turning back to Shikadai with evil grins on their faces.

“We want to see your weasel”, Inojin said, smiling rather devilishly.

“Give me a reason”, Shikadai replied, crossing his arms over his chest, but not in a hostile way. He started smiling back at them.

“Okay.” Inojin yanked the scroll he so carefully had rolled up and raised his paintbrush. “You better activate those Sand genes, there’s no time for napping now.”

“You are not serious”, Shikadai laughed and opened his fan in the same moment as Inojin already had painted a huge lion on his scroll and Chocho expanded her fists. “The _one time_ I haven’t gotten enough sleep and you jerks want to have me demonstrate my summon to you in a fight!”

“Poor little Nara”, Inojin laughed and activated the painted lion.

The little game fight tickled Shikadai’s lust for win and soon enough he bit his finger to demonstrate what demonic power he had and –

“Summoning jutsu!”

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't deny that I'm slightly obsessed with Shikadai's maternal heritage.
> 
> Thank you for reading, commenting and leaving kudos!
> 
> See you in the next one!


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